The Capture

Part II

Inside it was dark. Mimi stumbled when Ken released her but caught herself before falling. She was trembling and out of breath as her eyes adjusted to the shadows. She finally saw him. Her enemy was half-sitting on the pallet of fur-lined blankets, propped up but his saddle. His presence seemed gigantic in the small tent, and a feeling of claustrophobia and imminent doom swept over her.

Matt sat up straighter. "You may leave us, Ken."

Ken turned. Mimi cried out. "Nae! Do na gae!" But Ken was already gone. She whirled to face Matt, panicked, slim hands raised. "Do nae touch me!"

"Come here."

She froze. His words were soft, but unquestionably a command. The kind of command one automatically obeyed, but her feet did not move, and now her mind was frozen, too.

"Woman, come here, now."

Mimi searched his countenance. There was no innuendo in his tone to confirm that her fate was about to be a violent rape-an act that, according to all she had just heard, would most likely murder her. Nevertheless, she was shaking.

Her gaze found his again; he had been studying her, too, with growing impatience. "What do yae want with me?" she managed.

"What do you think I wan?" he gritted. "You are a woman. I am in pain. Come here and tend my leg properly, now."

Mimi started and then relief flooded her. "Is that all yae want?" She was incredulous.

His jaw flexed. "I am used to instant obedience, woman. Come here and do what you have been trained to do."

Mimi knew she must obey, for his rising temper was obvious, but if she did not reach an agreement with him now, while she had some tiny portion of power, she never would. "I will gladly tend ye, if ye promise tae release me unharmed after."

He was openly incredulous. "I command-and you make demands?"

She knew she had pushed him as far as should, that she should not push him any further, but despite herself, she said, "Aye, I do."

He smiled. It was cold and dangerous smile that did not reach his dark, glittering eyes, and it was infinitely frightening. "Very few men have dared to disobey me, and even fewer have survived to see the light of another day."

Mimi inhaled, unable to turn her regard away from his, unable to blink. Whatever power he possessed consumed her. Her knees had turned soft, threatening to give away. And something dangerous and terrible in its potency seemed to reverberate between them. "Do yae threaten me?" she whispered hoarsely.

"Only your sex spares you."

She had not a doubt that if she were a boy, she would now be dead. He was her single most hated enemy, the enemy of her people, of her family, of her father, the King. Her situation was dire, but she must not give in to her growing panic. Mimi stiffened her spine. If ever was the time for heroics, it was now. "Sae do ye agree tae my terms?"

He stared. "I think you are either the most stupid lass I have yet to meet, or the bravest."

She stared back, hardly complimented and too frightened to be furious.

"You heal me and you shall be released."

Mimi gasped. She had attained what she sought, but she was certain she could not trust him, not as far as her youngest brother could spit. She had no choice, however. Grimly Mimi came forward, determined now to see his injury, to tend to him as quickly as was possible, praying she would be freed as he had promised so she could immediately reveal all that she had so far learned to her father. She tried to ignore his brilliant gaze, which never left her person. Swallowing, she knelt by his side. "What happened tae ye?"

"A maddened boor. My horse broke its leg just before the kill, leaving me in the creature's path. I slew it, of course, not before this."

She did not reply. Her gaze was on his hard, dark-skinned, naked thigh. The bandage was already stained crimson. The wound was high, perilously close to his privates. For a moment her glance was drawn there, where she had no business looking-at the dark shadow between his legs.

Heat suffused her. Her hands shook, and she clenched the folds of her skirt.

She saw only a blur of movement, and his huge hand was clamped around her small wrist. A scant second later, she was lying flat on his rock-hard chest, chin to chin with him. When he spoke, his breath touched her lips. "Why do you wait?"

Her gaze left his mouth and flew to his eyes. For the first time she saw the stark pain there. Something twisted in her heart, compassion she refused to entertain. She must not hint of this man as human, or a being hurt and suffering. She must only remember him as an inhuman monster, one capable of single-handedly and cold-bloodedly killing people to suit his aggressive nature.

She nodded, unable to speak, the feel of him warm and solid and disturbing beneath her breasts. He released her. Mimi scrambled onto her knees at his side. She touched the bandage. Cautiously she began to unwrap it.

She winced. The wound was open, bleeding and ugly, but not too deep. Water and lye soap had been brought to clean the injury. "Twill hurt."

He met her gaze, saying nothing. In the dim light his eyes seemed as jet black but she saw a spark of blue, and this close, they were unquestionably beautiful. She pursed her mouth, refusing to dwell upon such thoughts.

The wound was finally clean. Mimi paused, wetting her dry lips, looking at him. "It needs tae be stitched."

"There's a needle and thread and fresh linen behind you." Mimi looked over and nodded. She picked up the needle, hesitating. "Perhaps yae want some wine."

His brow lifted. "So you do have a heart beneath those pretty little breasts?"

She tensed. "I have nae hands fer yae!"

"Do it."

What did she care if he suffered even more at her hands? Unfathomably angry, trembling with agitation, she picked up the needle. She had stitched up wounds before, but she would never grow accustomed to the procedure. Her stomach roiled. She bent over him, working diligently and precisely, aware of his gaze on the top of her head, unable to forget his words. When she had finished she knotted the thread and cut it with her small, white teeth. She straightened, relieved that the surgery was over.

Mimi expected to see him drained of all the color, his face a mask of pain. Instead, his eyes were entirely lucid but brilliant, dangerously brilliant, holding hers. Quickly Mimi picked up a fresh piece of linen, dropping her gaze.

She was greeted with a sight she did not want to see, had no right to see. She had moved his tunic aside to perform the surgery, exposing his heavy genitals, and now, now she quickly settled it back into place. Her face flamed, stinging. She pressed the linen to his leg, trying not to think. But those men were right. If he raped her, he would kill her. Her hands, small and delicate and white, contrasting sharply with his dark, powerful legs, trembled as she quickly tied the bandage.

The exact instant she was done, his hand cupped her face, forcing her chin up and her regard to his. "You dress like a hag, but act like a lady."

Mimi was frozen.

His gaze left her eyes, sliding over her features one by one, finally lingering on her lips. "No peasant woman I have ever seen has a face such as yours."

She opened her mouth but found herself incapable of summoning a self-defense. Her stunned mind could drum up only one terrible image, and that was of her captor pressing her down beneath him on his pallet.

His hand left her face, but caught her own palm, turning over. "Milk white, silk-soft."

Terrified and mute, aware that she had not a single callus, she was drawn to his glittering gaze. She recognizes the intensity there now even though she had never been faced with such an uninhibited display of male lust before.

The corners of his mouth lifted-an attractive, perfectly formed mouth, Mimi could not help thinking-in an expression that could not be described as even the semblance of a smile; rather, it hinted at aggression and triumph and primitive satisfaction. Mimi drew back, a second too late. He had already slipped her veil from her hair. As he leaned close, nuzzling her cheek, he said, "Your hair is clean and smells of flowers." He straightened, staring. "I have little doubt that if I looked beneath your clothes, I would find skin as clean and as sweet-smelling."

Mimi lurched to her feet. She did not get far. He gripped one wrist, jerking her immediately back down on her knees beside him. "Am I correct?"

"Nae! Na' at all! I swear tae yae-" Mimi's words were cut off when his hand snaked up her leg, beneath all of her clothing, a caress of hard, callused palm on soft, naked skin. Mimi cried out, shocked at the violent sensation sweeping through her. She was staring down dumbly at the entire length of her bare leg, from where her wool socks ended at her calf to the very top of her thigh, which he had just exposed.

"As I thought," he said, and now there was a change in his tone, one Mimi immediately recognized despite her inexperience, one that tightened every fiber of her being made her pulse soar.

"I... I can explain," she whispered.

"Soft, so soft, and clean," he said, locking regards with her again. He did not cover up her nakedness. He did not remove his hand from her thigh, his fingertips perilously close to grazing the ripe plumpness at the apex there. Instead, nostrils flared now, he leaned close, his face-his lips-brushing her neck.

He crooned in her ear, his mouth against one lobe, his thumb against another, "So who are you, my lady? And more importantly, what are you, if not a spy?"

To be continued

A/N: Olla fellow readers! So sincerely sorry for just updating. Hope you enjoyed this! Promise of the Rose is really one of Brenda Joyce's work of art! There will also be another story going to happen. So please read it when I've uploaded it! Thank you!